


My World

by littlekittykanny



Series: Shambles of the 587th [3]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mentions of suicide attempt, This is pure fluff, clones cuddling their jedi, just wanted to write something between my ocs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 07:02:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11412720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlekittykanny/pseuds/littlekittykanny
Summary: Kot relaxes with his Jedi after battle.





	My World

If someone had told him when he left Kamino that the center of his world would be someone other than his brothers, CT-9361 would have laughed his ass off. As a shiny, he never thought anything would be more important than his brothers. He’d kept that state of mind until he was assigned to the 578th.

He had been greeted by two women, smiling and kind. The Nautolan Jedi master had welcomed them and looked after them as her own. She’d tried to keep her troops safe and healthy as much as she could. Keeva Ahearn had treated her troopers with respect and love, but he could tell there was an underlying sense of guilt about the woman.

General Keeva Ahearn had been against the use of clones. She felt it was unethical, but did not wish to go against the council when they decided to fight. She believed in the Republic and she would fight for it. She did her duty until the bitter end, something he could respect.

The padawan he thought of in a more personal light. He’d remembered being fascinated by the general’s tendrils, but he had been captivated by the younger girl’s brilliant blue eyes. They were an electric blue that seemed to radiate endless energy.

She was beautiful, he’d decided after a few rotations with her. She had auburn hair that in the right light reminded him of fire. Her expressions were wild, changing from second to second. Her laugh was like thunder, loud and noticeable. Her voice reminded him of the wind, something gentle and soft that could quickly turn harsh.

But her touch…her touch was always gentle. She was never harsh to her troopers, even in rare moments of anger.

She was a light in his world. He watched his brothers die left and right, yet she always had a song in her heart and a rhyme on her lips. She’d sing or rhyme just for the fun of it on and off the battlefield, but only when appropriate. She smiled at her troopers, told them they were doing a good job. She came into the sick-bay and sang to the wounded when she had downtime.

She had been a ray of warmth and sunshine.

Until things changed.

She was no longer a naive, idealistic child.

The war had stolen that from her. 

He’d lost the majority of his brothers. She’d lost the closest thing to a parent she had. He’d felt the loss of his brothers deeply, but she’d felt it more. He watched her grieve, not only the loss of the general but the loss of his brothers. He’d watched her scream and cry. He’d seen her go off the deep end and attempt to take her own life.

Looking at her now, he felt a sense of pride. She was laying on the bed, her hair an auburn halo around her head. Her eyes were closed, for once at peace. Her breathing was even and slow, her hands resting on her stomach.

She’d grown so much from the first time he’d met her, not only physically. She’d gone from a child to a woman in a very short span of time. She’d lost everything and was forced to rebuild what she’d lost.

General Kenobi had greatly helped with the process, but she’d had to do a lot of healing on her own. General Skywalker, surprisingly, also had been helpful. Apparently the man had experienced a similar loss, and could greatly sympathize with the padawan’s plight.

He was silently grateful that at least the two Jedi were willing to allow the padawan time to be emotional. They seemed to understand better than the other masters that she needed to cry in order to grieve.

And grieve she had. She was now confident in her place as General Kenobi’s padawan, despite her questioning the council. She’d made it through the trials life had thrown at her and come back a stronger person. When Obi-wan had faked his death, she had taken it with grace instead of violent anger.

She’d been angry, don’t get him wrong. She’d been very distraught over his apparent death, commiserating with Commander Cody, who couldn’t believe his general was “dead”. The pair had been rather upset to discover they’d been tricked, but both understood the reasoning behind it.

He was torn from his thoughts by movement beside him. His eyes darted up her frame to her face to see brilliant blue eyes staring at him.

“Hey, why aren’t you asleep?” a soft voice asked.

“Wanted to make sure you were okay,” he replied quietly.

She struggled to sit up, only to have him lay a strong hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t, you’re hurt,” he rasped.

She looked from her bruised ribs to him and raised an eyebrow.

“Like you aren’t,” she said, raising a hand to touch his heavily bandaged shoulder.

He took her hand in his own before telling her to go back to sleep. She sighed before pulling on his arm.

“C’mere, Kot.”

Kot allowed her to drag him towards her, taking care to avoid laying on his injured shoulder. He kissed her shoulder before looking her in the eyes.

Inquisitive eyes looked back at him.

“Why? You know Jedi aren’t supposed to form attachments. You and your brothers have your own world, your own kind of culture. Why would you ever want to be a part of mine?”

Kot allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch into a smile.

“My world is with you, Dalia. Ever since I met you, you’ve been a light in my life. Your compassion for my brothers, your compassion for your men, it’s different. General Ahearn took care of us, but she always felt guilty, always felt like our existence was wrong…we could tell. You were never like that.. You loved and accepted us from the beginning.”

Kot pressed kisses to her neck and shoulder. Her skin was soft under his lips, only giving way to slight scarring, but he didn’t care. He could feel her pulse against his mouth, thankful she wasn’t hooked up to a heart monitor. He knew if she were the alarms would be ringing.

She smelled like antiseptic and mint, an oddly appealing combination. The medication they’d applied in the med- bay had left a distinct scent the clone medic was familiar with. It gave Kot mixed feelings. He loved the smell, but hated the implications. He hated seeing her hurt.

The bruises that marred her skin had gone from a dark blue to a dark yellow color. He stared at the bruises and scars, thanking the maker he could still hold her.

It wasn’t until he’d almost lost her again that Kot realized what Phobos had called the obvious- that he was hopelessly in love with the tiny commander.

He’d thought his fear of losing her had come from losing his battalion and former general. He thought the reason he couldn’t breathe when he saw the knife in her hands was because he couldn’t bare to lose what was left of the 578th.

Phobos had pointed out that even before the massacre and attempt he’d been protective of her.

Kot didn’t want to believe it at first, but her suicide attempt had been the last straw. Laying next to her now, listening to her breathe, he knew he was in love with her. He was in love with the way she spoke, the way she moved. He was enamored by her stubbornness, by her fierce loyalty to her master and her men.

He let out a soft sigh as he felt thin fingers combing through his hair as he kissed her neck again. He was careful not to leave any hickeys, lest the general find out. He peppered kisses across her jaw, pride sweeping through him when he saw a smile appear on her lips. A smirk spread across his lips as he kissed her cheek.

Dalia chuckled, letting a little gap of pain, before saying, “Whatcha thinking about, Kot?”

“How lucky I am to still have you.”

She gave him the look that made him simultaneously happy and sad. Her eyes lit up and the smile was wide, less haunted looking than normal. She looked a bit more like the padawan he’d known before the war had broken her.

“I think I’m the lucky one. Now, go to sleep.”

Kot allowed himself to go limp, letting Dalia cuddle up next to him. He watched her eyes flutter shut as she relaxed into his hold. He watched her fall asleep eventually giving in to his own fatigue. As his eyes slid shut, all Kot could think of was how much he loved his commander…and how much she loved him.


End file.
